Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. “It was my sister Anna. Leonardo would not have married her. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait.
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