” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. "Dying, Sir Rowland. She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp.
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