The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. Quick, now. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Section 3. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. The woman I wanted was another man's wife. Byby.
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