This is a joke of yours. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the
secret stairs. Chapter VII
MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS
“Anna!”
Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. Stanley,
putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor,
and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity,
asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do
you propose to live?”
“I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself
in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. “I have learned that.
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