Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from The Impudent Comedian: & Others
Where should she be, madam, at this hour, unless in the hands of her tire women? It is but an hour past noon.
You lie, knave l She is at hand, cried the lady, as the musical lilt of a song sounded on the landing above the dozen shallow oak stairs leading out of the square hall, and a couple of fat spaniels, at the sound, lazily left their place on a cushion, and waddled towards the stairs to meet and greet their mistress.
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