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“Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. Wild—" "I did," interrupted Jack; "and I never yet broke an engagement. Before she passed out she turned and faced Sir John. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. They had changed identities absolutely. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. “I wonder what happened. Manning,” she said, “I warned you not to idealize me. Vorsack would just have to live with it. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. .

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