She fidgeted and looked away. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. “You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays.
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