So he shut his eyes. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. In the next place, she really had some pretensions to beauty. Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy.
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