She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. ‘Not here. If you want me, you know where to find me. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!….
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