Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. He was manifestly exerting his mind for her, and she found herself fully disposed to justify his interest. ‘You know pretty much everything you need to know. ” “I like the mystical way better,” said Ann Veronica, and thought. “Fortunately I believe that the relationship is not generally known. ” She stopped with an air of interrogation. "All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her.
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