Wood uttered something like an imprecation. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. All the influences about her worked with her own predisposition and against all the traditions of her home and upbringing to deal with the facts of life in an unabashed manner. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to do it much,” said Ann Veronica. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got.
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