“It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. They are used to me, they only cry because they have become so used to being here. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. ” She shocked him by that. ’ She sniffed and swallowed.
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