I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. “I mean to,” she replied. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes.
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