Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ‘You do not want to be a nun,’ he said now, and Melusine noted with a prick at her senses the irritation in his tone. You were never married at all. My late husband, I mean.
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