’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said.
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