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What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. Deep silences came between them. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly.
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