The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. "You must not remain here," he said. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light.
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