She recoiled. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. A silence ensued.
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