‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. If my Mom found out, she’d kill me. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. Maggot, whose nerves were more firmly strung, she contented herself with waving her hand affectionately to her lover, and encouraging him by her gestures. It was one of the most educational disillusionments in Ann Veronica’s career.
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