’ He flushed. Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth. "Put it under my pillow," he said. He rose slowly and extended it. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed.
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