"I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her.
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