She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. The door leaned inward. ” “Shall we go now?” “I think I would like to listen to music. " Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. " "Come along!" cried Jack, darting through the door.
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