” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. Spit of your mother. ‘If you had told him that I would rather die than see him, he would not have come. But I was portentous, I can assure you. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees. The chair was torture. Sorry to be so nosy. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr.
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