” He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the shops and people. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted.
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