Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. “I was hoping to be able to secure a few minutes’ conversation with you, Miss Pellissier. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. Deep silences came between them. He kept that, but the rest. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders.
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