“You’re getting too old to put things off, John. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. "I'll fetch it. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. "To make your mind perfectly easy on the score of Mrs. "I should never have been what I am, but for you. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought.
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