I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. What was to happen now? She turned to Roding quickly. . . . ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. ” Lucy replied.
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