Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. He quickly responded to her kiss and grasped her to him, kissing her deeply. “There is no remedy, girls,” she began, breathlessly, “except the Vote. Earles said persuasively. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. .
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