“I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. Sepulchre's church, and hurrying down Snow Hill, darted into the first turning on the left. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. ’ He sighed elaborately. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf.
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