The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. We hide it bravely, but so it is. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. Cathy chimed. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed.
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