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Hopefully. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. ” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered.
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