“Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. Both started. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. ” Anna promptly alighted with the letter in her hand. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. Diane spoke first. .
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