A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. It’s my other side of the moon. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily.
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