” “It is very beautiful,” said Ann Veronica in a low tone. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. I sha'n't cry any more. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. CHAPTER XXIII.
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