The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. “Go on!” she commanded. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. She stopped eating. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed. I can be that man, the one I know you want. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw.
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