\"God, it's too curly for a brush. ’ A little sigh escaped her. An electric light flashed out from the wall. . “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. I think she might be up to something. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. " "No. One gets drawn into things.
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