She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. " "By depriving him of 'em, eh! But I'm sorry you hurt his lordship, Terry. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. And mind you don't arouse his suspicions. “I wish he had,” she said. Heaven forbid. You will begin to see it all opening out. My goodness gracious.
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