"But I can guess what it's for. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. H’m. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning.
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