Mr. Charley Pevenill was our host. I asked him—to take me away. " CHAPTER IX. Last night Mr. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face.
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