The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. .
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