If Ray left the house, it would be easy. He looked at her reproachfully. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. Jack was not half your age when he died. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out.
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