It was the grand nursery of vice. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. Much to her annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with the woollendraper, who following up a maxim of his own, "that nothing was gained by too much bashfulness," determined to profit by the opportunity. “And yet I do it without compunction. “Let me help you,” he begged. ‘Possibly,’ he said.
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