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Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. I’m sorry.
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