But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to—dinner. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me.
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