” “Did it hurt when we did it?” His voice rose, inflamed with worry. “Yes, I remember you now. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult.
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