"Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. He drew her to him with his hands upon her waist.
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