The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. “And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. “Here goes,” he said. Always! I don’t believe there is any strong natural affection at all between parents and growing-up children.
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