A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Indeed, a note of weeping broke her voice for a moment as she burst out, “You know as well as I do that money was a loan!” “Loan!” “You yourself called it a loan!” “Euphuism. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. In length the arch exceeded seventy feet. I will ring if I want you. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling.
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