" "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. ’ Gerald controlled a quivering lip. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. ‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. It’s the feinting tricks you have to watch for. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly.
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