There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. See paragraph 1. " "Enough," returned Jackson, extending his hand; "and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. She may address me as “Grandfather” if she chooses, since I’m obliged to accept her in that capacity.
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