And you are something of a heroine, too. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence. She was for ever scanning luggage and finding her way about the world, via these miniature pictures. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly.
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