It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. ‘And, if this was not enough,’ went on the lady furiously, ‘you dare to say I am French. . ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. . ” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire.
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