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” Ann Veronica said nothing, and Miss Klegg went on: “He very often IS— most unfair. She was with these movements—akin to them, she felt it at times intensely—and yet something eluded her. “I don’t mean simply intensity of sensation. ’ Melusine hit lightly at his chest. F. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. Pah! What a pig is this générale. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again.
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