One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. Good night.
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