For she needed him. “An annuity—a sum of money paid to you yearly or quarterly through my solicitors, and which you can consider as a gift from your sister. “What do you think of that?” he asked. And you know all about that shot. I will never consent till I see him. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging.
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