Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. “He just wants to get laid, you know. He went by another name then,—Rykhart Scherprechter I think he called himself. The next hour makes, or mars you for ever. I don’t. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. "You're only twenty—not legally of age. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. After all, why need one look down. I have nothing, nothing that can possibly be passion for you.
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