" "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. ” Anna raised her eyes, and caught the earnest gaze of an elderly gentleman with a double chin, a protuberant under lip, and a snuff-stained coat. If he recovers he may not accuse her.
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