She hated the manor. “Yes, I know. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. I don’t care.
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