\" He looked crestfallen. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Ennison,” she said, letting her fingers rest in his. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it.
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