Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. “Very well,” he said. "If I could work as fast as you, I might afford to be as idle. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears.
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