When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. ‘Move, you. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. 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.
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