It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. “Nothing was ever done,” Miss Brett asserted, “without a certain element of Faith. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. "Out of the twelve hundred subjects I've tucked up, I may safely place half to his account. Womanhood is sacred to me.
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