This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. She said you HAD some money. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. I never want you to be ashamed of me. Knock on the partition if you want anything during the might. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else.
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