“I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman. He would never recognize me now. It reverberated in the silence. Ramage, speaking the simplest first thought of his heart. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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