Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty.
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