Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. ’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am.
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