\" He perked up, ready to make conversation. ‘Precisely. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. ” Ann Veronica sat at the foot of the sufferer’s bed, while Teddy Widgett, being something of an athlete, occupied the only bed-room chair—a decadent piece, essentially a tripod and largely a formality—and smoked cigarettes, and tried to conceal the fact that he was looking all the time at Ann Veronica’s eyebrows. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. . He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. modern. .
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