“YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. After that night she made it a habit. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet.
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