” The detective nodded. ‘You know perfectly well that she is the daughter of the Comtesse de St Erme. “Oh, damn!” he said. Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. ’—he’s frightfully anti-Mendelian—having it all their own way. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. " "I sha'n't want these curtains. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards.
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