She can't last long. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview.
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