I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. ” “That’s a question of detail,” said Ann Veronica. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. This species of madness cannot properly be attributed to his illness, though its accent might be. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick.
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