Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. ‘Yes, don’t interrupt me,’ said Captain Roding severely. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. I did what I could to comfort her but she died in terrible pain.
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