She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. ” “I am very glad,” he answered, in a low tone. Miss Klegg raised the question of women’s suffrage, and he set himself to provoke a duel between her and Miss Garvice. She was correct, and when I went directly to the street she had named, there you were, walking into the Butcher Shop.
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