You understand that term?” Ann Veronica smiled faintly. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. "I am. But still she knew they were not right, and at times they became a horrible obsession as of something waiting for her round the corner. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back.
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