He seemed to be. Wood resounded from below. He looked at his friend. Then she reverted to the trousers. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. It is a matter of degree. Not for me. ‘Why, that’s it. But, say we're friends.
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