“You!” said Ann Veronica. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?”
note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively,
“How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old
professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann
Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. "Do you call neglecting your work, and
singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master
would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary
confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. If an
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