It might be dangerous to thwart him. Her heartbeat quickened. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. “Don’t!” cried Ann Veronica, struggling faintly, and he released her. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. She was surprised at his modesty. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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