” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. We can’t even protect them from themselves. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly.
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