“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. ” For some creditable moments in her life Ann Veronica was utterly disgusted with herself; she was wrung with a passionate and belated desire to move gently, to speak softly and ambiguously—to be, in effect, prim. “I don’t know. ‘Certainly no one will find it. CHAPTER IX. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis. ‘Least of all, one who takes advantage of another’s misfortune.
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