Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. “And you?” “Same thing. White Sears special-order orthopedic shoes, polyester pants, and cotton print blouses were her usual weekend attire. I’d need to be out of my senses. “I’m being honest with you. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws.
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