She advanced, stabbing at him. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone.
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