She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. "He'll learn that his plans will be defeated. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. " "You had better write them for me, Mr.
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