I was grateful. The back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. When younger, and in better health, she must have been eminently lovely; and there were still the remains of great beauty about her. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. “Hello, Gwen!” said Ann Veronica, trying to put every one at their ease.
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