’ ‘No, no,’ the other lady assured her with a twinkle. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel.
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