“It was the night you left Paris. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. ” “Then how have you managed?” “Bother!” said Ann Veronica to herself, and tried not to look guilty. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
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