The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. JONATHAN WILD. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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