He stole his chance and thrust his hand towards hers. 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. On their left the river, with its gloomy pile of buildings on the opposite side, and a huge revolving advertisement throwing its strange reflection upon the black water. She began to tremble violently. Hers were less noble, yet stately. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. ” Ann Veronica sat over her fire with her father’s note in her hand. .
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