He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. It is that you cannot refuse her sanctuary. I followed you home on the train. It isn’t such fun as it seems. “I want to inquire,” said Ann Veronica. He went on with intense urgency. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing.
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