” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon. A shy virgin bride would not press her thigh sinuously against his, nor consent indeed to this clandestine little comedy he had been playing. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. And it's uncanny. Her gratitude swelled within her.
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