As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. ” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied.
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