‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. She is no more English than that set of beggars over there. ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell.
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