She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. “Heavens!” exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion. You think everything is harmless and simple, and so forth. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them.
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