The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. It filled her with indefinable fear. ‘Not from the nuns, no. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all.
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