He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; it permeated everything, taste and smell. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him.
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