” Ann Veronica walked as he indicated. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. Ruth returned to the table. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house.
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