“Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. “No!” Her thoughts had turned in a new direction. " Not many days after this event, on a bright October morning, the bells rang a merry peal from the old gray tower of Willesden church. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. His heart hammered in his chest. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. “I noticed him call her attention to us as we passed down the room,” he answered. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. —"Stay! something occurs to me. For a long time neither spoke again. ” “If you dare—I dare,” said Ann Veronica. ’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding.
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