” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. Here one might live the life of golden days.
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