It is the vapouring school girl. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. \" \"If they're rich, can't they help even a little?\" \"Nope. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. “I suppose there’s no way of getting a decent income—independently. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. ” She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone.
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