The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. Giles's. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. "Get from under it, Jack!" vociferated Thames.
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