She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. He stood back and held her shoulders.
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