A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of the bells of Newgate and St. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. I am very good at guessing names. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified.
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