” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. “Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style.
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