The Iron Bar. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. It drives one mad at times. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. They then clambered over a hedge, and scaling another wall, got into the garden at the back of the house.
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