“I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. A creeping numbness invaded her.
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