Ennison stood by her side. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. "Oh! never mind him: he'll take no harm! Come with me into the parlour.
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