Ann Veronica surveyed his sloping back for a moment, and then drew her microscope toward her. I was grateful. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. ” Ann Veronica was about to reply, when he went on, with a still more deadly quiet: “I am not here to bandy words with you. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t understand why I wanted you to come here?” “Not a bit of it,” said Ann Veronica stoutly. “Not possible.
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