The Master of the Mint, in the exercise of his two-fold office of governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and holding forth to his guests in a speech, to which Mrs. The Times slipped from his fingers. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. Hartford, Connecticut; she had registered that address; but there was something so mystifyingly Oriental about her that the address only thickened the haze behind which she moved. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. The lady, who was indeed stunning, Gerald suddenly realised, said never a word.
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