“One doesn’t wait,” said Ann Veronica. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there.
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