Ann Veronica considered her answer. He had not had time to aim the pistol. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. "A knowledge of the ways of men. ” Sir John turned towards the door. Thunder rumbled behind the manicured hills.
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