” “We are,” said Ann Veronica. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. "Your tone suggests something marvellous in the fact," replied Ah Cum, ironically. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me.
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