She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. . The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes.
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