But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. "Friday!" echoed Mrs. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. Sanguine they were not. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more.
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