Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. . “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary.
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