She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Gay. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. The boat rocked violently with the struggle. One is always familiar with the business of one’s neighbours.
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