It was an impulse. Do you think she does?” Ann Veronica picked among her salad with a judicial expression of face. “Showtime!” Martin cried. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. I’d come back from the ends of the earth. Her unnatural calm was giving way. But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesitation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers, who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially lessened the distance between them. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. ’ Which effectually silenced her.
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