She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. “I should think YOU could do all sorts of things. I want to make my own selection. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. She leaned forward and addressed him.
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