And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. " "Depend upon it, Sir.
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