’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. The manager tells me that you are an American.
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