For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. Barring that the Valade fellow had sneaked back. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. Only one penny—two copies—two pence—thank you, Sir. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home.
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