Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. ” They passed out on to the pavement, and the commissionaire called a hansom. ” She looked at him quizzically. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight.
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