"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. I have seen you with Anna, and I have not known whether to be glad or sorry. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. The Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind. You want music.
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