“It was the night you left Paris. “Are you aware, Ann Veronica, you nearly throttled that gentleman?” Then she reviled her own foolish way of putting it. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. I just like you, Mary, and we’ve had a lot of fun. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers.
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