Pause. She also knew that he was the type who would not make a single physical overture until she pushed the correct buttons. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. I am gambling on his intuition. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. Escape was now impossible.
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