She will not confide in me. ‘I know her, ma’am, but I know next to nothing of her story. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. " "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton.
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