’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. Let us be gone. “Difficulties indeed. “When they tap the roof,” she said, in a voice of authority, “you are to come out. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely.
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