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“I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. “I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. You see, I’m selfish. Only a book detective could dope this out. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. . ‘And then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. " "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. ” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced.
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