The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. That is easy. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live.
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