Ann Veronica stared at his foolish, propitiatory smile, his hungry gaze, through one moment of amazement, then stepped aside and went on her way with a quickened step. He glanced up at the coachman. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses.
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