How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. Prudence Remenham. " The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. They've paid for their lodging. Widgett was a journalist and art critic, addicted to a greenish-gray tweed suit and “art” brown ties; he smoked corncob pipes in the Avenue on Sunday morning, travelled third class to London by unusual trains, and openly despised golf.
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