The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. ‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
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