He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper. “Marriage and mothering,” said Ann Veronica, with her mind crystallizing out again as the lark dropped to the nest in the turf. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart.
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