And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. You don’t happen to know of any one, I suppose, who wants a nursery governess, or a clerk—without shorthand—or a tryer-on, or a copyist, or——” “For Heaven’s sake stop, Miss Pellissier,” he interrupted.
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