“Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. “Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution.
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