"Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. " "No; I'm quite sure she said they're for you," replied Winifred; "but she does want to see father. ‘And we shall see which of us is more quick. Say I’m out, away, anything!” “I am sorry, sir,” the man answered, “but she had sent away her hansom before I answered the bell. 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.
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