” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. . Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. Of course there were goats. She crushed the letter in her hand.
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