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. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap.
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