Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. If so, do not hesitate to tell me. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. But this I cannot do. “You’re wanted for questioning, miss.
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