Old London Bridge. " "I see. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. I suppose my creed is, ‘I believe rather indistinctly in God the Father Almighty, substratum of the evolutionary process, and, in a vein of vague sentimentality that doesn’t give a datum for anything at all, in Jesus Christ, His Son. “But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica. I guess. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. Anna admitted the fact.
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