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” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. The wall of St. Quilt, who was an ardent lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily at the rueful appearance of these personages. After these dinners they would have a walk, usually to the Thames Embankment to see the two sweeps of river on either side of Waterloo Bridge; and then they would part at Westminster Bridge, perhaps, and he would go on to Waterloo. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. “If you say so, my pet. “No, you didn’t.
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