It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. "I don't know. Gianfrancesco never suspected that I had my own reasons for wanting you for my wife.
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