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. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Hearing the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. ’ ‘Ah, so that’s where Valade comes in,’ nodded Lucy. She could not bear the shame of it. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. ” “Did you say,” Sir John asked, “that the man’s name was Hill?” “Yes,” she answered.
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