” “I sent a telegram, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. ” She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the letters still in her hand. “As my lady wills. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. My janizaries shall go with me. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head.
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