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She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. “That is as you will,” she said. Later on—well then the time may come. “A most wonderful likeness, too. “It was perhaps my fault. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. Every word you utter puzzles me. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire.
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