The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. ” “What do you want?” he asked, bluntly.
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