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. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug.
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