Gosse, if he had any sense, would immediately seek out the Remenham lawyers. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot.
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