His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, carelessly. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table.
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