’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. Sometimes we had the Illustrated London News and Tit-Bits. It was Annabel’s. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding.
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