There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. 1. "I should like to know where Mr. ” She whispered. The ragged edge. I was—I was a corespondent. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. “MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London.
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