‘Must be another of her lies. 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. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. It was the only way to make the monthly bills. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour.
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