He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. What would happen when confronted by the actual? He was young; she was also young and physically beautiful—his lawful wife. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. They were horrible people.
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