‘Though he didn’t mean it. ’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand. It is quite a descent from the clouds, isn’t it?” “I will accept that,” Anna said, “as accounting for the surprise. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences.
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