I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage. ‘Must be another of her lies. " "That is very kind of you," she acknowledged. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. He was accompanied by Ireton and Austin. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed.
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