I asked him to take me away, and hide me. , and go home before you have to. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad. Shouldn't you be getting home?\" \"It's not far.
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