One only. 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. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously.
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