” She said, searching for her brassiere under his bed. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth.
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