As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. What she actually wanted was the present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying.
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