Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. He did not play golf, but took his exercise on horseback, which was also unsympathetic. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business.
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