There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. But he knew. “I wrote it for you.
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