’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound. Ann Veronica was excited and puzzled, with a sense of a strange and disconcerting new light breaking over her relations with Ramage. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story.
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