“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. “If I do,” he said. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. You’ll have to go back to Remenham House. Never mind. Both these ladies possessed considerable personal attractions. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. Over these hung levels, bevels, squares, and other instruments of measurement.
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