” John approached Lucy, handing the bouquet to her. “G. ” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. . . ‘Of course. Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man demanded his business. “But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt.
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