I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me. But this is a great lark, Ann Veronica! This turns life into a glorious adventure!” “Ah!” she cried in triumph. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, with the air of one who shares a difficulty, “I’ve promised to go. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. They were horrible people. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. ‘Move, you. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. Her lips parted, but no words came. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. End of Project Gutenberg's Anna the Adventuress, by E.
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