“I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. “Feel better.
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