” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice.
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