’ Then she jammed her hat on her head all anyhow and ran from the room. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. You come with those clear eyes of yours, as valiant as an angel. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. You'll find me at supper. “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to.
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