” She relented. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. At the Palazzo, the cook’s cook had a team of servants under him. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful.
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