“Oh, Lucy. E. Wood. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. ” The tired woman shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and then looked with them at Ann Veronica. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. ” Anna glanced up. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her.
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