She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. Mirrors. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Wood trembled. ” She whispered. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable.
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