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I don’t quite know why. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. ’ ‘But Marthe, this is idiot. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. You are going to accept a post as chorus girl, or super, or something of that sort. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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