She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. Ever and again Capes appealed to Ann Veronica. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. That's the only fault I know of. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. " "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay.
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