“I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did. “What’s that for?” He said. ” “Yeah, I think she hates you, hon. “Let’s hope your successor is worthy of you. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.
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