Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. But to live at peace with your neighbour…. And that confounded engagement!” “Gone!” They came upon a platform, and stood before her compartment. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. . She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood. This year—I’ve got it badly. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone.
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