” It was, Ann Veronica felt, at once absurd and extraordinarily right. And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat.
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