“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. Every one turned to her in astonishment. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. (“No, no. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. ” “I suppose,” Ennison said, “the likeness between the sisters must be rather exceptional?” “I never saw the goody-goody one close to, so I can’t say,” Drummond answered. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer.
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