“I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. “Do YOU go across the Park?” “Not usually.
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