McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. “Go to London,” said Ann Veronica. " Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. Tears sprang to her eyes. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland.
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