I've an idea it'll be that long before the chap gets up. \" Lucy said. 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. " "You talk boldly," replied Wild. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. There was no response. " Darrell returned no answer.
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