‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. " "I wish I could have foreseen. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. In addition, the Fadden Dance business, all out of proportion, occupied the whole foreground of her thoughts and threw a color of rebellion over everything. —I'll give him the edication of a prig,—teach him the use of his forks betimes,—and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street.
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