“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask.
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