I expect company. . ” He left off abruptly. Softly she rose to her feet. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. It’s no good hiding it any more. Without hindrance—present occupation.
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