She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel.
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