Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again. " "Good enough for me. The tension was palpable. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. “Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have trampled upon them long ago. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. . “Dear husband,” she murmured.
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