Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. “Mean as an old mule, too. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. “What have you been doing since our last talk? Still cutting up rabbits and probing into things? I’ve often thought of that talk of ours—often. Ennison was deeply interested. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth.
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