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Why ever did you let me get into that wagonette?” “I thought we had to,” said Ann Veronica, who had also been a little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. It'll be your turn to save mine next. All right, I’m coming. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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