“At a boarding-house?” he gasped. “I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. ” She laughed at him easily and mirthfully. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open.
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