Again silence. “I don’t think she will,” she said. "Has Jack displeased you? If so, overlook his fault this once. He was asleep. I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion. You never can tell. He became really companionable, discussed the new story he had in mind, and asked some questions about colour. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant.
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