Montague Hill. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. “No!” he said aloud at last. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father.
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