It was an impulse. Just. “Frightful lot of things aren’t settled,” said Ann Veronica. She jumped up at once, caught up a leather clutch containing notebooks, a fat textbook, and a chocolate-and-yellow-covered pamphlet, and leaped neatly from the carriage, only to discover that the train was slowing down and that she had to traverse the full length of the platform past it again as the result of her precipitation. A wrathful God was watching him.
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