“Look here,” he cried out of a silence, with a sudden flash of understanding, “did you mean to throw me over when you came out with me this afternoon?” Ann Veronica hesitated, and with a startled mind realized the truth. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. I decided to go in and wait.
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