The aunt laughed. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. ‘I don’t want him having an apoplexy in this house. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. ” “Fine.
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