Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. ‘You think so? Well, if that’s so, I know where she gets her impudence, Prudence Sindlesham. She would marry him. “Promise.
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