He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her.
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