He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. ‘Here we go again. Did the other girls thank you?” “Not really. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. ” Ann Veronica sat down, and Ramage’s eager eyes feasted on her.
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