Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. She will not confide in me. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. Nothing was given away, and no one came so rich to the stall as to command all that it had to offer. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her. I don’t know.
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