“Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation.
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