Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. " "No—no," laughed Jack. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. We've made a pretty penny by him—sixty guineas this blessed day. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. “Is it your maid?” he asked. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. You never saw him before yesterday. I would sooner see you in a ’bus again. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins.
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