“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. "Go on. Kneebone will excuse you. I can’t. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed.
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