He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. “My God!” he said again. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. The Bitchster strikes again.
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