—Strype's Stow. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. ” She stated. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. She turned her head to each side. Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. The door to the room in question was closed.
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