"Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. “A serious question. We are nuns. Do you think it’s nothing to me to have my daughter running about London looking for odd jobs and disgracing herself?” “Sha’n’t get odd jobs,” said Ann Veronica, wiping her eyes. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare.
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