“I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. Better they should find the so-called Valade. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all. “Yes. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford.
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