The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. I believe I’m the only sane member of the family left. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances.
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