" "At least, I will hope so," returned Winifred. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. Grace à Leonardo, she could defend herself now! Gosse was still attempting to manhandle the door, when she turned the key and wrenched it open. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. We shall have—hardly any money.
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