It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. ” “There IS something sound in that position,” said Capes, intervening as if to defend Miss Garvice against a possible attack from Ann Veronica. We were worried. You see—I didn’t understand. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. And for many years, that was the way it was. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. Not wisely but too well. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. “It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. "My father!" she whispered. ” Her hand fell back into her lap. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression.
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