The twenty pounds burned with avidity. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. She had come to the end of her resources. Did you hear us through the archway, talking cookery?” They went up by the lift in silence.
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