"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. Go to her. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup.
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