You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. Anna left the room on tiptoe. ” “No, I don’t. “It has been a delightful evening for me. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure.
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