“I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. I’d need to be out of my senses. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor.
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