For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. “Go to London,” said Ann Veronica. Just dreamed—and ran away even from my dreams. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. Then I threw a bucket of dirty water on his face and said, ‘Listen, asshole, let’s get one thing straight.
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