It was now a quarter past twelve. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. “I don’t want to take up your time. “I dare not,” she answered. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “A serious question. She must weigh her situation. ‘So I shall do so.
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