"Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. “Who did you live with before the Becks? I hear things. "How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. I think she might be up to something. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner.
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