It was bad luck to go to Canongate. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. “She appears to be very popular here,” she remarked. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll.
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