It was impossible. She stepped on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to ice as he saw that she was not alone. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
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