“This isn’t furtive,” said Ann Veronica. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. ” “That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully.
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