“John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. ‘You will not believe any of my very clever lies. These sisters moved in a grown-up world inaccessible to Ann Veronica’s sympathies, and to a large extent remote from her curiosity. . ‘That is my mother.
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