She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. He filled his pipe slowly. Ann Veronica was excited and puzzled, with a sense of a strange and disconcerting new light breaking over her relations with Ramage. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. They got in my mouth. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy.
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