Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. Something about this woman rather reminds me of our hostess. She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. “Amazing. It’s a lake among precipices, and there is a little inn where we can stay, and sit and eat our dinner at a pleasant table that looks upon the lake. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. “You have the temperament,” he said.
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