I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. "If there is any honour in you, stop and think. It is bad policy. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself.
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