” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. "The gen'l'man as hired us," replied the chairman. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park.
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