“It—it—must come,” she faltered. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. ” “Except,” said Constance, surveying her work with her head on one side, “to keep the matches from the litter. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered.
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