Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. Pull over there. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. Here, it might be anything at all.
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