“Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. ’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth.
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