“But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat.
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