But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. 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. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 30-06-2024 18:43:56
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