God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park.
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