Then Valade—was the man as big a fool as Nicholas?—tried again. ‘Mademoiselle. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. You have to come over to my house. John stared palely. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. . Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. She was nestled under his bedspread. The Times slipped from his fingers. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence.
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