As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Wood thought them both remarkably plain, but Mr. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression.
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