Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. Cathy sighed.
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