“You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. Gregory B. Something about the girl had suggested an idea.
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