It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. ‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers.
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