Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. At last, a little way to the northward of Euston Road, the moral cloud seemed to lift, the moral atmosphere to change; clean blinds appeared in the windows, clean doorsteps before the doors, a different appeal in the neatly placed cards bearing the word ————————————— | APARTMENTS ————————————— | in the clear bright windows. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission.
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