“Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. I told her it was the end. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. ” Anna leaned back in the chair and laughed softly. ” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ‘I should never have told you.
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