CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. I do not care in the least. “Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley; and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm. Her cheeks were aflame. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible. Likely as not outside the law, too. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek.
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