Do you think it’s nothing to me to have my daughter running about London looking for odd jobs and disgracing herself?” “Sha’n’t get odd jobs,” said Ann Veronica, wiping her eyes. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. Living’s just material. You're not afraid, Mr.
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