Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. “I was never at any such dinner, and I am quite sure that I do not know you. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces.
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