She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards.
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