Sir John hesitated. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. “I have answered all your questions,” she said.
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