You know as well as I do that it was accident. But I dare not accept it. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull. Shoving between them, she confronted the captain herself. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile.
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