82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Neither the manners, the looks, nor the attire of these gentlemen prepossessed Mrs. . "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. “Then—then we can talk things out.
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