“Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. ‘I have the means to compel you. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. May I come home and try to be a better daughter to you? “ANN VERONICA. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. What was the alternative to going home? No alternative appeared in that darkness. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. " So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney.
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