The Chinamen raised the limp body and carried it to the hall staircase, up which they mounted laboriously. But all of that was forgotten. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. “How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. And yet—you millionaires should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination.
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