Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. She kissed him with a closed mouth, not as recklessly as she was tempted to do.
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