She looked steadfastly out. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. " The spinster's face actually became warm. ” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. “Yes. Wild is sure to be up. “No. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life.
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