” “My God!” said Manning, in a stage-aside. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. CHAPTER XXVII. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. " Sister Prudence looked at Sister Angelina, who understood what was expected of her. . "Friday!" echoed Mrs.
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