After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. He had not joined Orchestra in favor of Basketball. "I'll tell you a dream I had last night," continued the unfortunate being. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. Spurling, drily. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement. .
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