‘Not in the open street. —BRENDON. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself.
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