It was a mad half-hour. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. He drew her away from this thought. Fifty pupils.
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