The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person. It was the only way to make the monthly bills. She could not explain in words why they disappointed her or that she was disappointed. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily.
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