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“Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. He resented being regarded as irregular. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. “I wrote it for you. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. “I have never forgotten.

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