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. “I suppose, Mr. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. On the walls were noticeboards bearing clusters of newspaper slips, three or four big posters of monster meetings, one of which Ann Veronica had attended with Miss Miniver, and a series of announcements in purple copying-ink, and in one corner was a pile of banners. " "You had better take some refreshment before you start," rejoined Wild. A woman such as I am might help take care of Mr.
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