Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. Heaven will not permit the continuance of such wickedness as you practise. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. He began to tell me something—and stopped. And they admired Kent sedulously from the windows. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. .
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