Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. " "He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father," remonstrated Thames; "you'd better let me help him. What is there?” “Tristan. There were two. Stanley in person. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. So long as a man behaves himself, I can't refuse him liquor.
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