Either Sydney or Mr. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. That’s— that’s my private life. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. ‘Not in the open street. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay.
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