“And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured. \"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. She looked from Anna, who was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully. " "But I never can forget it, Winny. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. He was caressing an idea. Their small talk continued. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting.
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