XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. She threw him his car keys. Pray, walk in. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna. Beneath that tree let us lie.
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