Too close, he reasoned, for safety. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended. I'll remember that. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. There was no one to be seen.
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