“I believe that you are right,” he said softly. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate.
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