Ruth loved him. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. \"Yep.
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