Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. ’ ‘Why should Gérard care?’ sneered Gosse. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed.
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