“Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. “Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace. “Forty guineas a week. My father was Colonel Pellissier. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. Unless they remind him now and then not to.
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