Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. ’ She tossed her head. "In favour of my son. . ” She was on the very verge of a vegetarian meal before she recovered her head again. ] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. I don’t know. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Besides, you cannot tell where it will end. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. All right really.
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