’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout. Mr. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. "There's only one way out of the muddle, that I can see. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. Her own pack was so light that she left it in the locker. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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