” That phrase about dragging the truth through swamps of nonsense she remembered from Capes. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. “You too were deceived. You’re a piss-poor liar, John.
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