Anna nodded as she briskly crossed the pavement. “That was a moment of madness,” she said. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. He did not notice that Ann Veronica was preoccupied and heavy-eyed. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in.
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