The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. I might have told you the truth. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action.
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