Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Manning called. There was a hint of tears in her voice. It was perfectly logical. Wood, glancing angrily at her husband. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. ’ ‘So did your business about marrying an Englishman seem to me,’ Gerald returned. ’ ‘And your precious vicomte didn’t wish for the English one,’ said Charvill, acid in his voice.
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