” She stopped with an air of interrogation. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. You did it on your own?” Ann Veronica smiled. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. She hated living like that.
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