What right had she to call herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. Spurling. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. "I forgot. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. " "Mr. . ” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench.
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