" "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. . ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. Love, obliterated, annihilated; out of his heart and out of his Bible. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. Imperceptibly almost Ann Veronica began to acquire the new attitude, even while her mind still resisted the felted ideas that went with it. And I get myself dirty. The crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming on, put them altogether to flight.
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