She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. Folks don’t like ’em. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. “You’re burning up. "Ay. 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. "Well reminded," answered Rowland, who had witnessed his struggles with a smile of gratified vengeance; "I had forgotten the accursed imp in this confusion. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried.
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