This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. ‘Who is to be angry with you now?’ ‘Miss Prudence, that’s who,’ stated Joan bluntly. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. But no more of that. " CHAPTER XXV. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand.
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