“I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are.
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