“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. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. “I’ll turn you here. Wild's intention, doubtless, was to use you as far as he found necessary, and then to sell you. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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