My heart fails me. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. That was odd: when young people were joyous, they had to express it physically.
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