On the walls were noticeboards bearing clusters of newspaper slips, three or four big posters of monster meetings, one of which Ann Veronica had attended with Miss Miniver, and a series of announcements in purple copying-ink, and in one corner was a pile of banners. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her. ‘No, you don’t. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. Anna went out. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. There was a confused impression of livery carriages and whips with white favors, people fussily wanting other people to get in before them, and then the church. Sydney Courtlaw—Mr.
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