She dismissed the idea of doing so. They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. "Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-boy, "don't go home. Saviours's stairs," answered Jonathan.
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