Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. " "I shall require them as well," rejoined Sheppard; "and your boots. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. " "Hold!" interposed Winifred, gravely.
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