She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. His glance came up again and met hers. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. “This is not every day. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms.
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