"Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. I will shed no more blood. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me.
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