He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. " Together they were making habitable the second bungalow, which was within calling distance of McClintock's. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend.
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