Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. He might miss at this distance. " "I wish I could have foreseen. Think, ma’am.
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