Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. “Ask me nothing. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly.
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