She remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. You don't realize what you have done. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London.
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