My only excuse is that I missed my way here, and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly.
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