“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. “That’s the point. ‘I knows how to do better nor any surgeon. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. Sheppard. ’ The lady frowned suspiciously. ‘Obsessed, that’s what you are. "You two … both of you! But for you I couldn't have done it.
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