It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. “Vee,” she said, “come home.
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