Once before—but that had been different. “But what can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this. ” “When is Michaelmas Day?” said Ann Veronica, a little abruptly. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her. If you were ten years younger, you'd have me wondering. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. So they fenced with smiles. It had been a trying day.
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