Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. You go to your room and ring for your maid. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. . A few minutes later Sir John left the room. " "You are very kind, Sir," returned the widow, "but I require no support. ” “It certainly was,” she admitted.
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