Mr. Wood brought up. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor. "Ay. “Let’s go.
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