” They passed out on to the pavement, and the commissionaire called a hansom. “Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money.
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