’ Fury rippled again. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. I could not dream of loving you. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. On his arrival at Dollis Hill, Mr. Courtlaw might have been able to give me an idea where to stop. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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