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Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange.
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