Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. It’s your first evening, and early impressions do count for so much. Slash and cut as much as you please. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers.
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