“You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with a pseudo husband. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked.
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