Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey.
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