Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. ’ ‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her.
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