Her scream shook the windows of the sedan. Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. “I am sorry. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked.
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