” “Tut!” he said, fuming, and put out his hand to the papers in the pink tape. “I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica. It is not so. He looked half at her and half at the sky. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. . She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. A vast indifference settled down upon him.
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