"I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “The conventions do not matter one little bit. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards.
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