I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please. ” CONTENTS ANN VERONICA CHAPTER THE FIRST CHAPTER THE SECOND CHAPTER THE THIRD CHAPTER THE FOURTH CHAPTER THE FIFTH CHAPTER THE SIXTH CHAPTER THE SEVENTH CHAPTER THE EIGHTH CHAPTER THE NINTH CHAPTER THE TENTH CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER THE TWELFTH CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH ANN VERONICA CHAPTER THE FIRST ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER Part 1 One Wednesday afternoon in late September, Ann Veronica Stanley came down from London in a state of solemn excitement and quite resolved to have things out with her father that very evening. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. You might be able to use the picture some day. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. "Hear me!" cried Thames, bursting into tears. The latter request, though treated with supreme contempt by Mr. 7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley.
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