Then she went into the office. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. "We shall see. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her place, and addressed herself fervently to her devotions. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression.
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