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. John eased off. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger.
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