. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. You make a game with me, imbecile. Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally. It was a reputation by no means deserved. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack.
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