Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. “And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned. Not then. Wood could stand it no longer. Nobody who cared. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ’ He glanced at the captain.
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