Montague Hill do not interest me in the least. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. "I would not venture to renew my suit while Thames lived, because I well knew your affections were fixed upon him. I couldn't accept anything from you. In any event, I explained that no one lived here and that we’d been called in because of suspected intruders. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own.
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