Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice.
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