" The Wastrel laughed. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. ” She said in Lucy’s direction. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance.
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