Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. This lover of yours—” “He doesn’t know!” cried Ann Veronica. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door.
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