"No," replied Hogarth, hastily effacing the sketch. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. It came again. " "I imagine I've been in a kind of trance. Pray, walk in. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces.
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