’ A sudden clatter of booted feet sounded in the hall beyond. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. We have to hang about in the interval. "Yes; but what is good isn't always proper. “What do you mean?” she asked. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer.
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