Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. “Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire. 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. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. You'll be answerable for his escape.
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