And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call. " "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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