“I suppose a girl MUST be underpaid and sweated,” said Ann Veronica. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive.
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