CHAPTER XIII. She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. "And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it that you had the same care, the same chance. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away.
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