She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. Then for a time she forgot the Fadden affair altogether. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. "Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. ” “You are marvellously like your brother,” Anna said, beaming upon him. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. Wild!" demanded Trenchard, as if he had formed a sudden resolution. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. '—'What is it, Mint?' asked all three.
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