Mr. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. A little Cockney recovered it, and made ridiculous attempts to get to her and replace it. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart.
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