” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. But they did what they could for her. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. ” Ann Veronica could have wept with vexation. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. My feelings overpower me. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains.
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