She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. He used a most awful word! Then he said, ‘It’s Ann Veronica gone to join her sister!’ ‘Gone!’ I said. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed.
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