"Come—the kiss!" cried Austin, endeavouring to pass his arm familiarly round the Amazon's waist. And why, after all, should she not borrow money from Ramage? It was so true what he said; middle-class people WERE ridiculously squeamish about money. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head.
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