CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. We know London, and you are a stranger here. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street.
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