He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. . ” The wedding-breakfast was for Ann Veronica a spectacle of the unreal consuming the real; she liked that part very well, until she was carelessly served against her expressed wishes with mayonnaise. She sat perfectly still, however. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage.
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