gutenberg. 1. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. “Must be hard to find a decent violin teacher these days. This moment couldn’t be better until the next moment comes. That is very certain. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. “Cheveney!” she repeated.
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