Such names shone brightly in the darkness, with black spaces of unilluminated emptiness about them, as stars shine in the night; but now—now it was different; now it was dawn—the real dawn. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. It was now a quarter past twelve. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out.
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