I defy you to explain it away. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. I was being stupid. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it.
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