Mrs. ’ ‘I presume you were not with her in France?’ Kimble stared. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. He knew she was out there, he could feel it.
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