“I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. “Not a bit of it. I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. They were both dressed in every respect alike. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. There was absolute quiet.
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