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Do you expect me, I wonder. “Where am I?” he muttered. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. ” He paused. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. " "Not quite," replied the manager.
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