” “What did you say?” “I said, ‘My dear Veronica! how can you think of such things?’” “And then?” “She had two more cups of tea and some cake, and told me of her walk. It was decrepit and too large. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead.
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