“Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. ” She stopped. Also she remembered very vividly the smell of orange blossom, and Alice, drooping and spiritless, mumbling responses, facing Doctor Ralph, while the Rev. I'll be outside the hotel at nine-thirty. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park.
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