Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. For all the enervating heat, he applied himself vigorously to his tasks.
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