The pistol fell to the floor. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. . Ann Veronica intervened a little in the novelist discussion with a defence of Esmond and a denial that the Egoist was obscure, and when she spoke every one else stopped talking and listened. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed.
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