Mrs. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “No you don’t!” said Ann Veronica, and walked out at a brisk and businesslike pace toward the house. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. “By God!” said Ann Veronica for the first time in her life. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. ” “Poor old ring!” said Ann Veronica.
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