Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. It is not at all comme il faut. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. I don’t care what divides us. But I shan't let him off thus. Her steps slowed. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre.
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