She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. " "Mighty fine!" ejaculated Mrs. Knew something was up.
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