Ann Veronica considered her answer. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom.
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