Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. Gosse backed, not even attempting to parry so unorthodox a use of the foil. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. I spent many happy days there.
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