I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. "You poor child!" said Prudence. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. ’ She jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. He did not play golf, but took his exercise on horseback, which was also unsympathetic. Think better of it. The gong will go at seven-thirty. She gave up as he finished, spending himself in her mouth. " "Do you call ten guineas easy terms?" cried Wood, with a look of dismay.
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