’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. ‘Dear me. It reached her only slowly that Ann Veronica was standing to her resolution. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath.
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