“He fell over at my feet,” she continued. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.
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