The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. ” Behind this woman and a little to the side of her, walked a man smartly dressed, with desire and appraisal in his eyes. The chief of these was a figure of Liberty, with a cat at her feet, in allusion to the supposed origin of the fortunes of its former founder, Sir Richard Whittington. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. He did everything. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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