Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. 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. ” “Borrow the money! But who lent you the money?” “A friend,” said Ann Veronica. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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