She felt as if she had struck them unawares. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly.
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