“I’ll come to the station,” said Ann Veronica. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. You don’t know, Anna, but when one is in danger one realizes that the— the other side of the line is Hell. My vengeance is completely gratified. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties.
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