” “It’s dreadful for you to be here,” he said, indicating the yellow presence of the first fog of the year without, “but your aunt told me something of what had happened. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said. Manning? I suppose there’s a sort of place like a ticket-office. Constantly sick with the croup or diaper rash. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square.
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