Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. The imbecile. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. She had heard the trader utter it many times. It came to Ann Veronica that life was wonderful beyond measure. Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. F. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. .
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