” “Mr. ” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender. His client’s story is safe with him. "Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. She recoiled. Wood, in equal trepidation. With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins. As soon as the latter beheld him, she uttered a loud scream, and fainted. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think.
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