He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. “Yes,” she said at last, “it is firm and affectionate. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town.
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