“You!” said Ann Veronica. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather. This lover of yours—” “He doesn’t know!” cried Ann Veronica.
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