“And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. There isn’t. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Without Jack, it was certain that she faced danger if she went outside Golden Square. “It’s my fault. My friend, I am only grieved that you of all others should have been so deceived. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely.
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