“I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Such apartments as she saw were either scandalously dirty or unaccountably dear, or both. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. ” His arms were around her.
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