"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. You understand that term?” Ann Veronica smiled faintly. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face.
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