“I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. ’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly. Be so good as to come this way.
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