"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. And now she insisted that she MUST leave the chastened security of the Tredgold Women’s College for Russell’s unbridled classes, and wanted to go to fancy dress dances in pirate costume and spend the residue of the night with Widgett’s ramshackle girls in some indescribable hotel in Soho! He had done his best not to think about her at all, but the situation and his sister had become altogether too urgent. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. She noticed that this trunk was not littered with hotel labels.
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