We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. In his way he was critical. CHAPTER VIII. Before very long I hope to have definite work. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. You go to your room and ring for your maid. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. . E. \" She fibbed.
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