’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. It's certain. "That's it!" cried Wild when Trenchard concluded. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. Here he was hotly pursued. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him.
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