’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. Her heartbeat quickened. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. He was perhaps forty-five years of age.
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