Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. “So am I. She turned with an effort. ” “Sounds interesting,” Ennison remarked. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air.
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