Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Clean water. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. “They’d better not,” said Hetty. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. You’re never going to believe this, by the way. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite.
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