"So get up, and leave off whimpering. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. I had already won wars and sailed ships to distant lands by the time I was thirty. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. “I feared we might have a fog. Lady Trafford, supposed to be childless, broken in health and spirits, frail both in mind and body, is not likely to make another marriage. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient.
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