He unlocked himself from her embrace. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. You understand. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
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