From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. Lost ground must be regained. ” And Ann Veronica found herself being carried off to an isolation even remoter and more conspicuous than the corner of the lawn, with the whole of the party aiding and abetting and glancing at them. " "Devilish hard! I'm not allowed a chance," grumbled Austin, as he was left alone.
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