‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. “I think that you were inquiring for Mr. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. The truth was impossible, indecent. “As she asked!” “It is already too late. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him.
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