It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. One of them was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and harsh forbidding features. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. You can, too, if you wish. “I do not even know who you are.
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