‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. The hansom drove off.
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