Sydney was watching her eagerly. Woof! What a dog. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. Ms. Ann Veronica surveyed his sloping back for a moment, and then drew her microscope toward her.
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