. 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. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. Ed. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Then she shrugged. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. ” He said.
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