The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. “I wrote it for you. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. . " Darrell returned no answer.
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