Mac, she's the honestest human being I ever saw or heard of; and at the same time she is velvet over steel. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. ” “I feel so guilty. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines. .
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