“Shut up, you little faggot. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. With an open hand, he slapped her face. "I love her already. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. ” She seemed unmoved, but she did not look at him. This intercourse, which had been planned to warm Ann Veronica to a familiar affection with Ramage, was certainly warming Ramage to a constantly deepening interest in Ann Veronica. "You've perjured yourself. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her.
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