Courtlaw rose to his feet. “He does not come here,” she exclaimed, quickly. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. ” Courtlaw refused brusquely, almost rudely.
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