It was hot and dry. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. ’ *** Mrs Chalkney, a long-time friend of the late Mrs Alderley, had been delighted to oblige that lady’s son. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon.
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