The room seemed a vacuum. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. She reloaded. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. He tired of his popcorn and placed it under his seat. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal.
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