Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. It engulfed them in black, white, and gray. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. " "Never mind it, my dear Mrs. ” “It’s rather jolly of you,” said Ann Veronica. ‘It is not your affair. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Life’s hard enough nowadays for an unprotected male. She entered the last room, his bedroom. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. You were only one room removed from the library, see.
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