Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. “Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. “Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. Be seated, and calm yourself.
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