"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you. Now, he had achieved them, and felt assured of success. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. “I am staying at the Savoy.
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