“Some day,” she answered. He was a stranger. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. "Anything else?" "Your waistcoat. Can you lend me some stuff?” “You ARE a chap!” said Constance, and warmed only slowly from the idea of dissuasion to the idea of help. E.
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