" At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. No need to do such things. For nothing they kiss. I said as how I’d tell Mr Jarvis as he wanted to take you away. Ralph. Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference. It was among artistic people. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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