The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. His energy began to slip away and she sank her teeth into his fat carotid artery below the piano wire, which had drawn blood from his neck. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. He laughed to hide his uneasiness. " "Propose it," returned Blueskin, inclining his head. It was enough. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand.
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