“I love you, Ann Veronica. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery.
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