Saviour's Stairs. She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. Petite build, like herself. Beyond that everything was nebulous. “I do mean that,” she declared. ‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. You have not considered the advantages.
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