Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. " Sister Prudence looked at Sister Angelina, who understood what was expected of her. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. He had gained admission somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna. Nobody who cared. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. "It is addressed to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my father.
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