The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. ” “Girls!” cried Ann Veronica.
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