“Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. . Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. Then she was out of the door and running, fast. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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