She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. She could not help but swoon a little. "I've been always true to you. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house.
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