Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. Thames Darrell is—" "My husband nicknames him Thames," interrupted Mrs. She felt sickeningly empty.
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