” “But—This bolt from the blue! My God! Ann Veronica, you don’t understand. ” Ann Veronica turned her back on the Michaelmas daisies, and faced toward the house with an air of a duty completed. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded.
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