She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. But I swear she ain’t told me nothing more, sir. He did not speak for a moment. ‘Don’t dare address me by such a title. “Come on in. Which is C?” Ann Veronica, with a curious sinking of the heart, regarded the black cavities of the vans.
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