It reminded Ann Veronica of having a tooth stopped. “Stuffy these trees make the Avenue,” said Mr. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room.
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