The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “This,” he said, and then: “No! Is this sweeter? Very well. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. Ann Veronica watched her and wondered about her.
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