” And Ann Veronica’s face was hot. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. "Since the sea has spared him, I will spare him. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. Still, one has to be reasonable. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense.
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