‘A word, if you please, my friend. Waving a white flag, naturally. Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. ” Ann Veronica meditated over that phrase. ’ ‘Yes, but in fact you’ve offered me far more entertainment than any French spy could have done. "She is saying that you, a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds herself. ” He commanded. .
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