Later on—well then the time may come. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. Consternation gripped him. “Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you.
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