“Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. But one was clearly the goddess among them, her face hidden, her body seeming to call out to me to possess it at once.
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