Before he could return, Jack had made good his retreat; and, wandering about the lanes and hedges, kept out of sight as much as possible. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever. ” “I’ve been certain of it for years.
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