Do you think it’s nothing to me to have my daughter running about London looking for odd jobs and disgracing herself?” “Sha’n’t get odd jobs,” said Ann Veronica, wiping her eyes. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. \"Shouldn't you be in bed? You go into work at 5:30, I thought. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her. “My child, I do not wish.
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