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Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. "I knew that would bring him to," thought Wild. "Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning, "the sooner the better. This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out. I was to blame to carry the matter so far. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. What do you think of the old tub?" "She's wonderful!" cried Ruth. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display. “You are in trouble,” he said. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door.
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