She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on. “Let’s go. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. And there was another matter. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad.
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