The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. Her confession was still unmade. There was a strange quality of steel in this pretty creature. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. “I am so very, very sorry. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. She drove me. ” The man contented himself with a nod. ’ She paused, struggling for the word.
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