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The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ” “Agreed,” said Ann Veronica. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. ‘It is not your affair.
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