I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. “I can’t help saying it,” she said, with the quality of her voice altering, “but I do NOT think it is right for an unprotected girl to be in London alone as you are. These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. He was followed with equal celerity by Terence and the widow. I'm not interested in him.
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