” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. “Ann Veronica,” he said. They sucked face and felt each other up, or something. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and a club-house for cards and billiards. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding.
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