Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. “You must not think of me as one. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion. ” “I want a vote,” said Ann Veronica.
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