’ Gerald raised his brows. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ” “I think so,” said Ann Veronica, and colored. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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