I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. 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. You cannot possibly leave me here alone with Gerald. I want to but I cannot! Please accept that!” She yelled. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. That was life.
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