Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. Ann Veronica liked their relationship all the more because it was an unusual one. "Your uncle, Sir Rowland?" "It is no idle boasting," replied the other.
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