My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. Thames Street was wholly impassable. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. “I might go home, I don’t know.
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