“At the Tredgold Women’s College,” said Ann Veronica. "I was only commenting. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. “He can’t be more than thirty. . " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. “It’s a new phase in the life history,” he remarked. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. But her heart kept on sinking. It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. With each step his heartbeat increased exponentially.
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