He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. The occasion is worth a dash of the grape, lad. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. “One hardly knows—all the time. “I’m not sure whether we don’t rather overdo all this higher education,” he said, with an effect of conveying profound meanings. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. Before Marthe will become impatient and come out. Very good. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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