Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. "Put your arms about me. Never. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds.
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