The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Businesswomen in pointy-toed shoes swooned coyly in his direction, tipping their noses over their glossy magazines to admire 273 him. She did not hear his approach, but continued her occupation without raising her head. “Well,” said Capes, at length, “we’ve to go down, Ann Veronica.
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