“Dear husband,” she murmured. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. “You can say what you have to say before Mr.
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