"You frighten the cull out of his senses. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. That is why I called myself Anna. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move.
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