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CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. ‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. Petite build, like herself. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square.
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