He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. "There won't be much left for you," he said. “Thanks to you. You'd better lose no time. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans.
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