The movement was fatal to her son. “How do you feel?” she asked. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. ‘Here we go again. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. ” The dinner came to an end at last, and the whiskered waiter presented his bill and evacuated the apartment and closed the door behind him with an almost ostentatious discretion.
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