Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. In the first place, Mrs. Ann Veronica said she didn’t care. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Then her fingers moved.
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