” Ann Veronica was silent for a while. “What about blood banks? Have you ever tried them?” “I don’t just take blood, John. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house. Somehow I haven’t connected the idea with you. Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. ” That night was the most intolerable one that Ann Veronica had ever spent. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.
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