The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ” He smiled at the naiveté of her suggestion. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed.
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