The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air.
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