" The Wastrel laughed. 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. " "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police.
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