Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. He was chained to the ground, but started up at their approach.
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