You have been burning paper, I see. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. "At all hazards then then you shall know the truth," replied the woollen-draper, in a tone of affected solicitude,—"but are you really prepared?" "Quite—quite!" replied Winifred. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Jack's heart was too full to allow him to derive any pleasure from this scene; so he strolled on without raising his eyes till he arrived at Kensal Green.
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