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. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. But they did what they could for her. ’ Gerald started. She's my mealticket. “Was it terrible for you after he died?” “Don’t worry yourself about it John.
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