And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. The man was dangerous.
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