And the hunter home from the hill. B. Mr. I’m a soldier, you see. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting.
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