She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause.
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