” “I am sure,” Lady Lescelles said, gently, “that the last consideration need not weigh with you in the least. Have I your final answer?" "You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble tone, but firmly. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. A shiver slid down inside her. These women could not be bad, else the hotel would not have permitted them to enter! Still, the scene presented a riddle: to give immunity to the black women who went about all but naked and to damn the white for exposing their shoulders! She had eaten but little; all her hunger had been in her eyes—and in her heart. They had always gone without because of their secret lifestyle. ” “Alive! In London!” Annabel moaned.
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