‘You were his daughter. She said”—Ann Veronica shivered again—“‘I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable, my dear’—like that—‘and whatever you do, do be careful of your hair!’ I think—I judge from her manner—that she thought it was just a little indelicate of us—considering everything; but she tried to be practical and sympathetic and live down to our standards. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. A quarter of an hour passed. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. She felt terrible lying to him. You seemed complete—without that.
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