‘She is a maid only, and I do not believe she has married Emile. “You see, I will take your arm. “Your arrival is really most opportune. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. ‘Well said, my dear. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder.
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