Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. Anything that had love in it! The doctor comprehended that he also had his work cut out. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. It ought never to have begun. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. He next twisted the heavy gyves round and round, and partly by main strength, partly by a dexterous and well-applied jerk, sapped asunder the central link by which they were attached to the padlock. ‘I am not a fool.
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