As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. “Hello!” said Ann Veronica, with arms akimbo and a careless, breathless manner. “Mind my smoking?” said Roddy. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. She knew she was a monster and so did they. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots.
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