He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. Why ever did you let me get into that wagonette?” “I thought we had to,” said Ann Veronica, who had also been a little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again.
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