Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. But somehow he could not bring any of these affairs to an orderly end. He was a fool. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. She had felt very uncomfortable around him, grotesque. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. Softly she rose to her feet. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. "Don't alarm yourself about him, Sir," replied Austin. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father.
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