Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. It was among artistic people.
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