Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. ‘Oh, Marthe,’ she groaned, using in her accustomed way the French version of her nurse’s name, ‘that pig is going to monsieur le baron. And you’d better have her fetch in some food for the missie, an’ all. You have been burning paper, I see.
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