“I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. It was from Brendon. ” Ann Veronica agreed, and tried to make the manner of her assent cover a possible knowledge of a probable poem. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had.
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