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It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. “Stop,” he said. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. Do you think she does?” Ann Veronica picked among her salad with a judicial expression of face.
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