" At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. I had a perfect shoal of callers. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed. ‘Certainly you may have me under guard. Ann Veronica woke rather later than usual, and lay awake for some minutes before she remembered a certain resolution she had taken in the small hours. On this side of the canal she has no place to go.
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