“NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. Nobody can anticipate your next move. Sheer calculation on his. “She can’t. I'll stamp twice when we've done. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service.
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