She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. You are not going to that infidel Russell’s classes. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy.
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