" He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. ” Ann Veronica agreed, and tried to make the manner of her assent cover a possible knowledge of a probable poem.
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