“John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. “Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley; and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm.
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