“You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back.
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