Long ago. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. No; she'd never go back. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile.
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