‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. Strange, I shouldn't know him when he called on me. At the opening of the van doors and the emergence into the fresh air Ann Veronica’s doubt and depression gave place to the wildest exhilaration. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone.
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