Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. ” “Perhaps you remember me, Miss Pellissier,” the second young man interposed. The owner was at the door unhooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he had exposed outside for sale. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. It was Annabel who spoke. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely.
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