There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. He seemed to be thinking hard. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. His room was last at the end of one winding corner.
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