"Though you lorded it over that fond fool, Mrs. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. That is my real milieu, and one that I am convinced you would not only adorn but delight in. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York….
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