He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. "The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. "If you have contrived to break out of your confinement, villain, this is the last place where you ought to show yourself. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. He was staring at her, openly gaping. . It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned. He could scarcely blame her. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. “Something. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them.
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