” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity. “I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam.
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