‘A devil is just what you are. 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. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. ” “My feeling in the matter,” Sir John said, “is as I have stated. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand.
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