"Ah!" ejaculated Mrs. A quarter of an hour passed. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. But for me it doesn’t matter.
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