“But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. . She despises me, I suppose. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts.
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