He was astonished. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. She cursed herself for a fool. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady.
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