Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them.
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