" Trenchard took up a pen. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things.
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