Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. And I want him out of uniform. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her.
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