She floundered deep. There was a strange quality of steel in this pretty creature. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. ’ I said. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. He refused. You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?” It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once discard it.
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