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Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. Nobody will ever know what the fleas thought. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ’ *** Gerald Alderley stepped out of a house he had been visiting in Hamilton Place and the door closed behind him. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. She was shifting, moving back. " CHAPTER V. ” “Is my sister’s Christian name, then, of so much importance to you?” she asked with a faint smile.
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