“You poor little girl!” he cried. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. ” Ann Veronica said nothing. " So saying, he pushed aside the table, and the janizary stooping down, undrew a bolt and opened a trap-door. Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke.
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