’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. And then you can go home and think things over before we talk again. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up.
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