“I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. ‘Move, you. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you. Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble.
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