“Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. ‘She wants you. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. A slow anger burned in the man. Sir John stood upon the threshold.
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