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” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. "But, pardon my intrusion. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. 225 “Sebastianus. " Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. . He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. You are in danger.
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