“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Period trying desperately to cover her nudity with a dingy hand towel she had found lying on the floor in a corner. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs.
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