I said to myself at once, ‘Either this is a coincidence or the caper sauce. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ” “It isn’t precisely faults,” said Ann Veronica.
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