Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. She swallowed hard. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it.
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