" "There it is;" replied the other, tossing him the glove. ” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian.
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