Mrs. Wood—and after him came his daughter. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. Wild has done his business. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. Fifty in advance. Just my room. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world.
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