Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. “Let’s go home. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. He could scarcely blame her. “I want to speak to you.
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