It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. To-night we leave for Marseilles. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. Why ever did you let me get into that wagonette?” “I thought we had to,” said Ann Veronica, who had also been a little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. I forget. 266 She peered up at him. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. The old aspect of the place was gone.
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