CHAPTER IX. “I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers.
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