‘Move, you. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. . 276 He opened the box. "I'll tote the odiousness outside. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. Ann Veronica’s universe, which had never been altogether so respectful to her as she could have wished, gave a shout and whirled head over heels. I won’t tolerate any foreign tongue in this house, least of all that confounded French. ” She stood up and held her arms toward him.
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