"How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. Ennison stood by her side. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him.
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