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I mean—I mean to do what I can. . I wouldn’t even have to use very much gasoline. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers.
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