’ ‘It could hardly be less so,’ said Mrs Sindlesham tartly. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Then he understood. She felt terrible lying to him. I took the money myself, and ought to know. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her.
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