I am a man—of a sort of experience. “I’ve gotta go. ” “They were my posters,” Annabel said. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. CHAPTER I.
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