She entered the kitchen. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. And immeasurable was the calm evolved from this knowledge. Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over.
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