You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. ” Ann Veronica thought. In the discussion there was the oddest mixture of things that were personal and petty with an idealist devotion that was fine beyond dispute. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. ‘They hold their nose up, so. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend.
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