“Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. ’ ‘Some of them more pleasurable than others, I take it. You are to come home.
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