Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. “Come this way,” he said. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Ann Veronica halted a pace, and Miss Klegg came alongside. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right.
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