It was scarcely likely that she would have accepted his aid. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. “Where are they?” She looked around. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. ‘And if he is dead I know not. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. “Sold again,” she remarked. The blast shrieked, as if exulting in its wrathful mission. Since then he has persistently annoyed me. “Yes, I remember you now. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it.
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