The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. “Time for my Patience,” she said.
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