She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. “No, no,” she cried. He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. The ruffian's companions took his part.
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