“Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. “Did she? I’m sorry, Mike. Smith had never seen anything like it. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. Everybody breathed a collective sigh of relief in the neighborhood, no one wanted to see how those kids would grow up.
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