Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco.
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