John knew better. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another.
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