They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. Ann Veronica, after a last survey of the dinner appointments, followed him, rustling, came to his side by the high brass fender, and touched two or three ornaments on the mantel above the cheerful fireplace. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. Yes, there was someone there. I have fulfilled my part of our marriage contract.
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