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Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. “Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica.
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