The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. “You are coming right out into life—facing it all. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. She felt herself shaking again. He’s riding down the drive. The watch was again consulted. " Here she began to blubber loudly for sympathy.
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