And he liked her. Teddy was the hatless young man who had turned Ann Veronica aside from the Avenue two days before. “Was I that bad?” He asked. “It is unimportant,” she said. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. It is only a matter of time before he presents himself to whoever has the deeds to Remenham House—a lawyer I presume—and claims that property for his wife’s. To reach the door they had to pass the end of the table, and behind the chair where Mr. You had better let me go again.
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