B. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. " "You'd better," replied Quilt. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him.
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