After all, that was life. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. "I was coming to give you intelligence of a comical trick played by this rascal, when I find him here—the last place, I own, where I should have expected to find him.
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