Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. ‘Not from the nuns, no.
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