Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. She had never seen her sitting on tables nor heard her discussing theology, and had failed to observe that the graceful figure was a natural one and not due to ably chosen stays. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head.
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