I thought you understood. “LOOKS all right,” said Ann Veronica, regarding him with her head first on one side and then on the other, and trying to be agreeable. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. She cursed herself for a fool.
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