The spy—if there was one hiding out in the late Jarvis Remenham’s empty house—would be taken unawares. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. "Come—the kiss!" cried Austin, endeavouring to pass his arm familiarly round the Amazon's waist.
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