Then she went in and up-stairs, hesitated on the landing, and finally, a little breathless and with an air of great dignity, opened the door and walked into Ann Veronica’s room. The flat was apparently empty. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. Plote was sleeping or deaf. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them.
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