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Public school. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. "That's a good story, lad. How did you like Tristan?” Ann Veronica paused the fraction of a second before her reply came.
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