He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. I am a man—of a sort of experience. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. “But how can you?” asked Constance. Indeed, a note of weeping broke her voice for a moment as she burst out, “You know as well as I do that money was a loan!” “Loan!” “You yourself called it a loan!” “Euphuism. I'll see her myself; and that's more than she bargained for, I'll be sworn.
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