“I’ve gotta go. . ” Anna never flinched. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in.
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