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She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move. Charvill’s fury was burning out. That Frenchie, that’s who she is. “Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. .
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