’ His brows rose. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate.
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