“Dear husband,” she murmured. ” She sniffled. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. She was shifting, moving back. “Sir John of course disapproves of me,” she remarked slowly. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. ” Anna shivered a little. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand.
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