Anna passed serenely out. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. She stuffed her violin in its case and rushed into the hallway towards John, who stood outside of 118 with his arms crossed. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. It might be upset. They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain.
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