” He said. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild.
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