Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. Then he put the paper by. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. I do not desire to extenuate my guilt—far less to defend it; but I would show you, and such as you —who, happily, are exempted from trials like mine—how much misery has to do with crime. She sat, crouched together, by the corner of the hearthrug under the bookcase that supported the pig’s skull, and looked into the fire and up at Ann Veronica’s face, and let herself go. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days.
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