“Look at me. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet. “Tell her,” said Mr. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. Whenever I feel particularly gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play poker for a couple of days.
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