‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. Stanley considered. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh.
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