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“There’s morbid beauty,” said Ann Veronica. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened
by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in
the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and
flaming sunflowers. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. Louis the Fourteenth
yet lived, and expectations were, therefore, indulged of assistance from France. Do you know what? You're some sea goddess and you're only fooling
us. But Blueskin was not to be silenced. "
And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon
it. . . It was red and chapped. “I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new
acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. ”
She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright
contagious hopefulness.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 05-07-2024 05:35:51