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They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. It is bad policy. Drink the toast, Jack. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. You will make her suffer. ” “I think so,” said Ann Veronica, and colored. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly.
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